


Progression

by ChameleonCircuit



Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Rhodestead - Freeform, Will is Confused, and a little bit not ok i guess, lots of i love yous, sort of fluffy? if you squint?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 04:17:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19265740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChameleonCircuit/pseuds/ChameleonCircuit
Summary: “I don’t understand you,” Will says, a note of hysteria in his voice.“What do you mean?”Connor's brow knits together in confusion just as Will shoves him. He doesn’t really mean to, but he still hasn’t moved back, and Will can feel panic rising in him. It doesn’t make sense but it has his heart pounding nonetheless.“You’re angry one minute and sweet the next and I don’t know how to keep up,” Will shouts, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing but stop. Just stop.”





	Progression

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd mess as per usual.

Couples fight. Will knows that, he’s used to that. Even in the easiest relationships he’s been in, arguments have happened, have tested the relationships strength and eventually been the end of things. Will is used to being in the wrong, too. He knows by now it’s usually his fault, even when he doesn’t understand exactly what he’s done wrong. He knows, because his partner’s are always left hurt and waiting for an apology, which isn’t always enough.

But none of his relationships had ever felt serious before Natalie, and Natalie seemed the most hurt, the most affected, by Will’s inbuilt tendency to mess everything up. He’d grown used to her giving him the silent treatment, often for days, weeks at a time, before she was ready to speak to him again. He was used to that, and he’d learned to wait, to be patient, to have an apology ready for when she was ready to hear it.

But Connor’s different, and Will can’t quite work it out. They argue a lot, voices raised, anger clear, baiting each other, almost like it’s a game. Will can never quite help himself, he always rises to the bait, especially when it’s about work. Because his job means everything to him, and he will fight for his patients, fight for what he thinks is right, whether it’s with his partner or not. The difference is, Connor never seems to stay mad for long. When he next sees Will, he’ll bring him a coffee, or leave a tender kiss on his cheek, or suggest having dinner together at some new restaurant that’s opened that he wants to try out. He never seems to hold a grudge, never seems to need the apology on the tip of Will’s tongue, never seems affected by the arguments they have.

It’s Will that’s affected, more than anything, because he feels like he’s constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop, constantly waiting for Connor to have had enough, to end things, to storm off and never speak to him again. He expects it more and more each time they argue, and every time he’s left stunned and confused when Connor doesn’t seem mad, doesn’t seem to need an apology.

Then one morning, somehow a light conversation in the car turns into an argument about money, and the words are out of Will’s mouth before he can stop them.

“I bet it feels great, not having to run to daddy anymore every time you need something.”

Will’s stomach sinks before he even registers the flash of hurt on Connor’s face. His eyes seem suddenly wide and sad and far too blue, and Will’s stepping towards him instantly, reaching out, apology on the tip of his tongue. Because he didn’t mean that. He knows the loss is still raw, that Connor’s still processing, still healing. But Connor recoils away, fire in his eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” he hisses, and storms off before Will can get another word in.

Connor doesn’t speak to him all day, barely even looks at him, and Will is sure this is it, this is the end, that this is the final straw, because this wasn’t just some casual argument. That comment was a dagger to the chest, and Will knows, one hundred percent, that he’s messed up. 

But just as Will’s gathering his things to leave, Connor comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his middle, soft and tender. Will’s relieved, sure, but he’s also confused, and he oddly feels like crying, possibly because he’s been miserable all day, stewing on it, waiting for the inevitable break up, only to have Connor be sweet when he wasn’t expecting it.

“What’s wrong?” Connor asks, taking a step back, arms still around Will.

“Nothing,” Will says quickly, forcing a smile as he turns in Connor’s arms.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Will ducks his head with a small sigh. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“I was,” Connor says quietly. “But you were trying to apologise and I didn’t let you. I know you’re sorry, and I forgive you, and I’d much rather go to bed with you in my arms than go to bed holding onto something like that.”

Will doesn’t trust it, though. Can’t trust it. It just doesn’t make sense to him. It feels like a trap, even though he’s sure Connor isn’t cruel, wouldn’t hurt him intentionally. He shakes his head, pulling as far back from Connor as he can, given that he’s essentially pinned to the lockers.

“I don’t understand you,” Will says, a note of hysteria in his voice.

“What do you mean?” 

Connor’s brow knits together in confusion just as Will shoves him. He doesn’t really mean to, but he still hasn’t moved back, and Will can feel a sense of panic rising in him. It doesn’t make sense but it has his heart pounding nonetheless.

“You’re angry one minute and sweet the next and I don’t know how to keep up,” Will shouts, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re doing but stop. Just stop.”

Connor takes a further couple of steps back, hands raised placatingly. He looks confused and sad and it twists Will’s stomach.

“I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong,” Connor says quietly. “Couples argue, especially us, we always have, but—“

“I know. I know that. I just...“ despite his still-pounding heart, Will’s anger is disappearing, taking his confidence with it. “You really forgive me? That easily?”

Connor nods, offering a sad smile. “Of course I do. I love you.”

Will laughs wetly, ducking his head. It sounds truthful. He’s sure it is. He’s sure he’s overreacted just now. But that anxiety is still crawling under his skin, confusion still clouding his brain.

“But I upset you,” Will whispers shakily.

“Yeah,” Connor agrees. “And you apologised, and I know you meant it and it’s okay, I forgive you.”

Will frowns, blinking away the threat of tears before looking at Connor again. “You’re not breaking up with me?”

Connor laughs. He actually laughs, and it stings in a way Will wasn’t expecting.

“Whatever,” he mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

He storms past Connor without another word, but Connor catches him again outside the hospital, grabbing him by the arm.

“Don’t touch me,” Will snaps, pulling away, but Connor just reaches for him again.

“I don’t know what I’ve done wrong,” Connor practically pleads. “I always know, even if I don’t believe I’m wrong. But right now, I don’t know why you’re upset with me. I’m sorry if I—“

“Stop it,” Will shouts, shrugging out of Connor’s grip. “Stop being so...so nice! I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and I can’t fucking take it anymore.”

Connor frowns, not trying to reach for Will again. “You want me to stay angry?”

“Yes!” Will shouts before he can catch himself. “No. I don’t know. I don’t- I don’t know, I just- I—“

He breaks off with a shuddering breath, lungs suddenly burning. He’s distantly aware that he’s likely made a big deal out of nothing, that he’s worked himself into a state over something that could have easily been resolved over a few drinks and a calm conversation, but he can’t seem to help himself. Like always, he’s gone and fucked it all up. Again.

“Breathe,” Connor says gently. “Will, breathe.”

“Shut up,” Will mutters weakly.

He takes a few deep breaths, but the damage is done. He feels shaky, close to tears, and it’s not the first time, likely won’t be the last, but no one’s supposed to know. No one’s supposed to see, least of all Connor.

“Will?”

“Just shut up,” he snaps, turning to leave again.

He’s waiting for the inevitable ‘if you walk away from me right now…’ threat, but it never comes. Instead, Connor just matches Will’s pace, not saying a word until Will stops dead in his tracks, torn between anger and endearment, that overall confusion still there.

“What are you doing?”

“My car’s just back there,” Connor says quietly, like he’s scared to speak at a normal volume. “Let me at least drive you home.”

“I don’t understand you,” Will whispers shakily, but he nods, gesturing for Connor to lead the way, because he came to work with Connor that morning and the thought of catching the train when he can barely catch his breath has his stomach in knots.

“You wanna try telling me what’s going on inside your head?” Connor asks once they’re halfway down the street.

“You think I’m crazy,” Will mutters, staring out the window.

“No, I—“

“Maybe I am crazy.”

“You’re not.”

“I feel crazy,” Will admits, looking down at his hands resting in his lap.

“Have I done something? To make you feel that way?”

Will shakes his head and shrugs at the same time. “I don’t know.”

“Talk to me,” Connor insists. “Please, Will.”

He takes a breath, deep and steadying, weighing his odds. The damage is already done, he thinks, so the least he can do is try and explain where he’s coming from, why he’s so confused.

“We fight, and I know that’s normal, that’s not the problem. But every time we fight I just wonder if it’s the end. Every time we fight I think this is gonna be the time you break up with me. At the very least, I expect you to ignore me, to need space. But every single time you seek me out like nothing ever happened, and I don’t...I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why, when I’m such a fuck up, you’re willing to forgive me so easily. I don’t understand why you’re ready to act like nothing happened.”

“Not all of our fights are because you’ve done something wrong,” Connor says quietly. “Usually it’s just a difference of opinion. We work together  _ and _ we’re dating. That’s...it’s gonna happen. A lot. It’ll keep happening.”

“I know.”

“It doesn’t mean I love you any less. Just because I think your choice of treatment is wrong doesn’t mean I’m angry with you.”

Will swallows down the lump rising in his throat and the swell of emotion that came with it. “But today...Today I really hurt you. I know I did. I saw that...that look in your eyes. I felt sick about it all day. I was  _ so sure _ we were done.”

Connor sighs, reaching across the console to take Will’s hand in his.

“What part of ‘I love you’ are you not understanding? I love you means I forgive you. Maybe there are things love can’t forgive, but I’m not sure you’re capable of that.” Connor sighs, giving Will’s hand a small squeeze. “My love for you is bigger than some throwaway comment about my father in the heat of the moment. A comment you tried to apologise for instantly. Okay?”

“I just...” Will sighs, shaking his head.

“Do you hold it against me when we fight?”

Will frowns. “No.”

“Yet I’m always the one who has to come seek you out.”

“I’m trying to give you space.”

“But you’ve already forgiven me? You’re already ready to hold me again?”

“Of course,” he answers in an instant, because the answer is obvious, he doesn’t even need to think about it. Of course he’s already forgiven Connor the moment he’s walked away. Of course he isn’t going to hold something against him when they’re both just trying their best.

“So why would I feel any differently?”

“Stop doing that.”

“What?” Connor asks, face crinkling in confusion.

“Making sense but...confusing me at the same time.”

Connor laughs. “I’m not meaning to. I just need you to understand. I’m not trying to trick you, I have no ulterior motive other than keeping you with me. Forever, if possible.”

Will’s next exhale is shaky, vision clouding with tears even though he’s not sure why. He sniffs, blinking rapidly, but it’s no use.

Connor, to his credit, doesn’t say anything. He lets Will have his moment, lets him fall apart as silently as possible, all that pent up confusion and frustration and anxiety forced to spill over by Connor’s outright love and affection.

When they pull up outside Will's house, he doesn't let go of Connor's hand, doesn't move to get out of the car. He's still fighting a battle he can't win inside himself.

"Hey," Connor says gently, finally breaking the silence between them. "It's okay, Will."

Will shakes his head. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

"I don't- It's just, Natalie never...every time we fought...It was me. It was always me. I'm used to being the bad guy. I'm...Even with Nina. I treated her so badly, used her in the end, and I know all that's on me, and it's like everything I do just...pushes everyone away. All the time. And yet you're still here and I can't understand how you can love me after everything."

It clicks then, for Connor, where this is coming from. He has too much respect for Natalie to blame her entirely, but he can't quite help that flicker of anger. He knows there's more to Will's pain than just his last relationship, but he still feels protective nonetheless.

"I'm not Natalie," Connor says carefully. "Our relationship is a clean slate. Okay? Her grievances aren't mine. Whatever...whatever happened between you two stays there."

Will nods slowly, finally looking at Connor. It breaks his heart to see Will’s red-rimmed, watery eyes and his blotchy cheeks, because he feels to blame, even though he knows he's done nothing wrong.

"I love you," Will whispers.

"I know you do."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you are," Connor says with a warm smile.

"Stay the night?"

Connor grins, giving his hand a squeeze before leaning across the console to press a kiss to his cheek, warm and soft and tender. "Of course."

 


End file.
